


Family Reunion

by Littlebluejay_hidingpeanuts



Category: Hannibal (TV), Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Father/Son Incest, Half-Sibling Incest, M/M, Multi, haven’t decided yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:15:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22482409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlebluejay_hidingpeanuts/pseuds/Littlebluejay_hidingpeanuts
Summary: There is a secret in the Whitly family that even they don’t know. Martin was a naughty boy when he was dating Jessica. Now his first born has come to visit.Hannibal messed up with Will. He wanted Will to be completely dependent on him. But putting the man you want to be with away for crimes you committed might have been a really bad idea, especially where Will’s siblings are concerned.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Malcolm Bright, Will Graham/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 95





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Whitly’s guard is named after the actor playing him, Sean Philips.

Malcolm Bright, his mother, Jessica, and his sister, Ainsley all stood in Dr. Martin Whitly’s “office,” behind the red line. The guard, Sean, sat in his chair, reading the paper, trying not to listen to the family loudly berate the “patient” for continuing to interfere in their lives, especially his son’s. Jessica had just learned of Martin’s attempt on Malcolm’s life. 

“How dare you? How dare you!? I knew you were a monster, but to try to hurt my children?! To kill them! There was a line. I thought at least you wouldn’t cross it,” she yelled. 

“Our children!” Martin couldn’t help interjecting, “And I didn’t. I didn’t kill them. But that counts for nothing, right?” 

“Smart man! No, it doesn’t. And they are my children! And I will kill you before you lay a hand on them!” 

“Mom, Mom!” Malcolm tried to calm Jessica down. He eyed Sean who kept his eyes firmly on his paper. Sean had heard all this before from Mrs. Whitly, but she never could seem to keep her children away from their father.

“Mom, it’s okay.” Malcolm took Jessica’s arms lightly, and tried to pull her into his chest in a light hug. “He didn’t want to. He wasn’t going to. I was always safe.”

Martin went from upset and distraught to looking at his son fondly. Almost too fondly. 

“Oh, Malcolm,” Jessica said, plaintively, “He’s fooling you. You know this. He’s a psychopathic monster. Manipulative and dangerous. He just wants you to like him, to care about him, so he can use you. This is too dangerous. You are never coming near him again!”

Rage overcame Martin. “You are not keeping me from my son!” His blue eyes blazed as he snarled, taking a step towards Jessica. Sean folded up his paper. Martin instantly went harmless, lowering his shoulders, lifting his head, and stretching his cuffed hands out as far as he could from his waist. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Everything’s okay here.”

There was a pause. Jessica, half turned toward Malcolm, looked disdainfully back at Martin. Malcolm, still holding his mother, watched his father mournfully. He was still a lost boy, yearning for love from his father. Sean shifted back into his chair, and reopened his paper. 

“And as usual, everyone forgets Ainsley,” Ainsley grumbled. She couldn’t help herself, even if she didn’t want the attention. Jessica turned to berate her. 

BANG, BANG. The glass on the outer door to Dr. Whitly’s cell rattled. A large black man stood impatiently outside. 

“Stand back against the wall,” Sean said, putting his paper on his chair, about to unlock the door. Dr. Whitly moved to do so, but a guard outside the cell was quickly unlocking both doors. The large man seemed to be pressuring him to go faster. Dismissing the guard once he was in the cell, he turned to Sean handing him a badge. Three more people followed him, previously hidden behind the man’s wide shoulders. “I am Special Agent Jack Crawford. These are my associates: Dr. Hannibal Lecter, Dr. Alana Bloom, and FBI Special Consultant Will Graham.” Crawford gestured to a tall, well-dressed blonde man, a much shorter, well-dressed brunette woman, and a rugged man with curly, brown hair and romantic, blue eyes that handed the guard a laminated badge. 

Crawford took his badge back, saying to the guard, “We need to speak with Dr. Whitly about a case. We need the room.” The guard nodded, handing back Mr. Graham’s badge. He looked at the Whitlys, but quickly left under Crawford’s gaze. He stayed by the door, though, waiting to see if the Whitlys would be following. 

Dr. Lecter gazed placidly at the Whitlys, and took in Dr. Whitly’s cell, his bookshelves and drawings taped to the wall. Dr. Bloom seemed worried. Her big, dark eyes flicked between Dr. Lecter and Mr. Graham before settling on the Whitlys sympathetically. Mr. Graham took in the room quickly without making eye contact with anyone. 

Dr. Whitly smiled openly, and leaned back against the cell wall, “So you need to speak with me?” 

Crawford ignored him and turned to the Whitly’s, “You need to leave.” 

“No. He needs to answer for his actions,” Jessica said, pointing at Martin. 

Malcolm said quietly, “Mom, you and Ainsley should go.” 

“You all need to leave,” said Crawford, growing forceful. 

“I am a consultant with the NYPD under Lieutenant Gil Arroyo, and formerly with the FBI. Perhaps I can help you with your case. Especially if it has to do with The Surgeon,” Malcolm said, stepping around his mother. 

“Perhaps we should step outside,” Dr. Bloom suggested. Crawford frowned. 

“It’s fine. They can stay. And I’ll be sure to try to help in any way I can,” Martin said, still smiling, looking proudly at his son. Crawford looked ready to force the issue, but turned to Dr. Whitly.   
  
“Three women were found autopsied in Baltimore, Boston, and Albany. They show similarities to the Surgeon’s kills,” Crawford began. “They show a similar medical knowledge and skill along with the extreme objectification of the women. They were treated like medical experiments. The first two women were poisoned, then cut up post-mortem. The third died during the procedure. He’s escalating. Will?” Crawford looked to Mr. Graham to contribute. 

“Dr. Whitly won’t be able to help us,” Mr. Graham said to the floor. Dr. Bloom looked worriedly at Graham. Her hands twitched as if she wanted to reach out to him, but the hint of fear or maybe anger that pulled at the corners of her mouth and eyes stayed her hands.

Dr. Lecter focused totally on Mr. Graham while Crawford sighed and watched Dr. Whitly take in the information. 

“We need to know about any colleagues that might have admired you enough to get the courage to follow in your footsteps,” Crawford continued, “Drs. Lecter and Bloom are here to talk to you about your victims and former colleagues.” 

“And Mr. Graham is here because?” Dr. Whitly could see how much of an outsider Mr. Graham was to his colleagues, just like his son was, just like he had been. 

“Mr. Graham can...read people. He is here to read you. To help with the profile,” Crawford frowned at Graham. Mr. Graham stayed still, gazing at the red Persian rug. His shoulders were tense, hands in pockets, standing close to the door. 

“Read people? Are you psychic?” Dr. Whitly’s focus centered solely on Mr. Graham. 

“Will has an empathy disorder,” Dr. Bloom interjected. Dr. Lecter seemed to frown disapprovingly at that from the tiny movements around his eyes. Mr. Graham didn’t react. Mrs. Whitly looked to her son while Malcolm turned thoughtfully to Mr. Graham. 

“That must be exhausting, Mr. Graham,” said Dr. Whitly. 

“It’s an over abundance of mirror neurons,” Mr. Graham sighed, taking his hands out of his pockets and leaning against the door. 

“You’re able to become anyone, then, aren’t you,” Dr. Whitly said. His voice turned softer and friendly. He spoke to Graham somewhat like he spoke to his son. 

Malcolm turned to his father, his frown growing. “How do you know it’s one of my father’s colleagues, and not, say, one of his interns, or just someone who admired the Surgeon from afar?” 

Dr. Bloom turned her sympathy on Malcolm, reaching out where she didn’t before. 

“There is forensic evidence that this killer is copy—...mimicking your father’s kills down to the hesitations in the cuts.” 

“Call me Will,” Mr. Graham said, stepping forward. His eyes passed over Dr. Whitly to his desk. His shoulders had relaxed. He didn’t hesitate to cross the red line and walk over to the desk. 

“Will,” Crawford warned. 

“Will, you should be behind the line,” Dr. Bloom said harshly. Dr. Lecter didn’t speak. He seemed amused. Will looked over the papers and two books Dr. Whitly had left open. 

“Thank you for that familiarity, Will. Please call me Martin.” Martin stayed resting against the wall. 

Will nodded up at the anatomical drawings. “Somewhat familiar, eh, Dr. Lecter.” Will side-eyed Dr. Lecter. 

”Will, enough,” Crawford nearly yelled, finally fed up. 

“He doesn’t know anyone that could fit the profile,” Will’s voice became flat, “He didn’t know about the murders. He doesn’t know who the killer is or might be. They haven’t contacted him. And he hasn’t been guiding them. His insight isn’t going to be helpful to us as he hasn’t got any insight. Showing him the bodies will just give him something to salivate over. The gifts of an admirer. You’re going to have to find other help from Bright here, or Whitly’s arresting officer, Arroyo.” Will turned completely away from Martin. “Dr. Whitly has been caught up in his family drama for awhile now along with his former partner, the Junkyard Killer. He isn’t going to be helpful until a new body drops. Nice names by the way,” Will threw over his shoulder, “The Surgeon and the Junkyard Killer. Very original. Remind me to call Freddie. I bet she’d love to do your PR.” Will smiled lightly, turning a page on one of the books. 

“You’re sure, Will?” Crawford said. Will glared at Crawford, making near eye contact. 

“Yeah, Jack, I’m sure.” 

Crawford sighed and looked to his right at Dr. Lecter and Dr. Bloom. He seemed to be encouraging their input to help him with Will. 

“Will, please, come back over here. There are rules about interacting with the patients here,” Dr. Bloom tried to cajole, but it just came off as patronizing. Even Martin felt insulted. 

“I don’t know how many “patients” you’ve dealt with, Dr. Bloom, in these circumstances, but I assure you I mean Will here no harm. Perhaps you simply need more practice,” Martin offered. Dr. Bloom dismissed Martin with a tilt and turn of her head. Will snorted, surprising everyone except Dr. Lecter, who smiled. 

“Dr. Bloom is a regular visitor of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane,” Dr. Lecter spoke for the first time. His voice was accented, something European, low and soft. “She routinely helps the patients there with her skill and compassion. She even helped Will while he was a guest at the Hospital just recently until his innocence and sanity were discovered. That was a difficult time for us all.” 

Will locked eyes with Dr. Lecter. Malcolm was shocked. 

“How do you still work for the FBI?” 

“Easy,” Will said, “I’m very good at what I do. And I can say with absolute honesty,” he continued his turn, then leaned back against Martin’s chair, “I wish I had been imprisoned here instead. But I bet the food here is just as bad.” 

Martin chuckled, delighted. “Just what were you charged with to find yourself in such dismal circumstances?” 

“Murder. They, well, Jack here arrested me for the Copycat murders.” Will looked over at Martin. Martin was looking at the group curiously. Crawford was gritting his teeth. Dr. Bloom caught Martin’s gaze, and looked at the floor. Dr. Lecter expressed only amusement, and seemed thrilled with Will’s answers. 

“I read about the Copycat Killer in the paper. Very artistic kills,” Martin stopped, startled to find his gaze locked with Will’s. For a brief moment, Martin felt like prey. Those sad, blue eyes that hid before now pierced. Over Will’s shoulder, Dr. Lecter’s eyes were the same only in maroon. How could their companions not realize the predators in their midst? Malcolm at least seemed wary of Will and Lecter. Getting Malcolm involved with Will would either do him some good in being freer with himself or would lead to his darling boy’s death, Martin thought. After Paul Lazar, Martin wasn’t willing to put Malcolm at risk again so soon. 

“But you aren’t the Copycat.” 

“No, I’m the guy that didn’t kill all those people.” 

“Too bad, but you are already so interesting. It’s only fair to allow someone else to shine.” 

Malcolm stared, aghast. Was his father flirting with Mr. Graham? 

Will took a few slow steps towards Martin. 

“Will, stop,” Crawford commanded. 

“Infatuated with serial killers, are we, Dr. Whitly?” Will said, darkly, ignoring Crawford. 

“Martin, please,” Martin’s smile was back, but not as sure or as proud. Will stopped just before Martin, his expression still predatory. Then Will relaxed. 

“I’d rather call you Dad.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m shifting everyone’s ages. Martin is 50. Hannibal is 41. Will is 31. Malcolm is 30. Riley is 29. And Ainsley is 25.
> 
> Edit: Martin Whitly’s guard was just named in the show as Mr. David. I’m keeping “Sean” until I know if “David” is the first or last name.

Jack Crawford and Dr. Bloom, previously upset with Will for not obeying their commands and coming away from the psychopathic former surgeon, jerked in horror and disgust. Will’s plan for getting to Dr. Whitly had not been discussed, but Jack was sure he was missing something big, and was not happy. Alana was ashamed Will would attempt such a horrid sexual ploy to mess with Dr. Whitly. 

Jessica and Ainsley had similar reactions of horror, though Ainsley was also saddened her chance with such an attractive man as Mr. Graham was gone if he was going to be playing such games with her incarcerated father. Malcolm just stood still, slightly slumped, eyes wide. He had been aware of his father’s inappropriate hints and overtures to him throughout the years, but he had never reciprocated. He was drawn to his father, but he had never dreamed of being so overt with him or anyone. Just the slightest bit, Malcolm admired Mr. Graham’s forwardness. 

Dr. Lecter was the one to express genuine upset and confusion over Will’s words. He had never seen Will display such sexuality. Even a single kiss with Alana had sent Will panicking. This flirtation should be directed towards Hannibal alone.

Dr. Whitly looked at Will. The mess of brown curls, the soulful blue eyes, the sweet lips coming together to create an angelic face at the same height as himself. 

“How old are you?” Martin asked. 

“31.” 

“Jenny.” 

“Good. You remember her. According to your timeline, she would have been one of your first victims. She’s dead by the way. Car accident,” Will sighed, missing his mother. 

“I knew it!” Jessica shouted. She took her daughter’s hand, and banged on the door. Outside, Sean immediately unlocked the door. “Come, Malcolm, now.” She rushed out, not looking back. Malcolm shook his head at Sean. The guard hesitated, but closed the door. Jessica looked back, but seeing her son look away, she turned sharply and left, dragging Ainsley after her. 

“This really is your father, Will?” Dr. Lecter asked. He had seen a photograph in Will’s desk of Will at age five with an adult man beside a boat. The man had graying hair though he had to be in his twenties. Hannibal knew this man to be William Graham Sr from the inscription on the back. 

“Yes, Jennifer remarried after leaving Dr. Whitly. The timing worked so she was able to pass me off as her husband’s son, even on the birth certificate. I’ve always had a feeling he knew, though. Weird, little Willie Jr. But he is my father. He raised me and loved me. Me and my sister,” Will said with a smirk. 

Martin, startled into laughter, began to giggle. “Well, Son, you certainly know how to make an announcement.” 

Malcolm glanced about nervously. He was shocked and disgusted with himself for having such thoughts about his father and what he now knew to be his half-brother. He yearned for the closeness his father could no longer give him while imprisoned. To find a brother so like him and a new unknown sister, perhaps he had found someone who could really know him, who wouldn’t treat him as fragile, broken, or as a toy. It would be best if he never mentioned these sexual thoughts for his new brother, and better still if he got rid of them entirely. As captivatingly beautiful as Will was, Malcolm wasn’t sure the latter was in his power. 

“Your sister can’t possibly be mine?” Martin asked carefully, readying himself for another surprise. It wouldn’t do to become complacent around his new boy, Martin thought. Will was an enigma, certainly someone to be wary of. It was such a shame his bitch mother had kept him away. “And when did you learn that I was your father?” 

“I’ve always known. As soon as I could understand, Mom told me my real father was a killer, and Dad didn’t know, but William Graham would always protect me. Later, after she died, I found a letter that explained everything. She wanted me to open the letter when I was older in case she hadn’t gotten the chance to tell me, but I was a curious five year old,” Will explained, “My sister isn’t blood. Dad remarried a year after Jenny died.” 

Martin grimaced hearing Will call another man Dad. He may not feel for Will the full emotion he felt for Malcolm, but he was possessive with all his things. 

“I was six when Carol and Riley joined the family. Carol had Riley from a previous relationship. Then a few years later Carol died. Murdered during a robbery. So there’s my father with a weird nine year old and a quiet seven year old, neither of whom were actually his, and he made it work.” 

Martin resolved to think over all this later when he could genuinely determine how he felt over this discovery. He had a second son also working for the FBI, and also delving into the minds of killers. He could easily fall in love with this idea. Or it could bring far too much difficulty into his life, ruin all his plans, and break his control over Malcolm. Will was very self assured. He knew what he was going to do before he walked into Martin’s office. He knew the secret he held and wielded it expertly. Just what did Will want? What did he want from Malcolm? 

“What do you want from me?” Martin peered at Will, trying to glean Will’s emotional state. He was surprisingly hard to read now that he was standing fully in front of Martin. Will was relaxed and smug, but revealed little else. “With such a loving family, just what do you need from me? Or Malcolm?” 

“When I heard we would be coming to talk to you, I called Riley. It was her idea to tell you who I was. Having Dr. Bright here is just a bonus. I’m pretty sure she just wanted to see what would happen.” 

“Oh, Will!” Dr. Bloom spat. Will turned to her. “How could you keep this from us? You should have told us your father was the Surgeon. How could you not tell us?!” 

Will’s eyebrows rose, and he shrugged. “I guess we all have our secrets, Alana.” 

Alana glared, disappointed and angry. She followed Jessica’s example, turning sharply and banging on the door. “I’ll be at the hotel, Jack. I will not be joining you for dinner. Are you coming with me, Hannibal? We have reservations for lunch, correct?” 

Dr. Lecter looked fondly at Dr. Bloom. “Alana, please, forgive me for canceling.” He ran his hand down her arm, and held her hand gently. “Will has just met his father for the first time. He must have kept the details of his past to himself for a reason. He has never been particularly verbose about his childhood. Neither have I. He has been accused, distrusted, and imprisoned for the last few months. He must have been going through great turmoil.” Dr. Lecter carefully turned Dr. Bloom to the now open door. 

“There was a good reason for not trusting him,” Dr. Bloom said, quietly to Dr. Lecter. 

“It will be good to take this afternoon to process. I will stay with Will to help where I can.” Dr. Lecter smiled compassionately. 

“There’s no reason for any of us to stay, through Dr. Lecter can stay if he likes. Will, you’re off the case,” Crawford said, firmly, “I’ll be advising on a new background check for you when we get back to Baltimore.” 

Will simply said, “Ok, Jack.” 

Crawford stared Will down, but quickly left. Dr. Bloom pleadingly watched Dr. Lecter for a moment more, but he just gave her an encouraging smile, so she followed Jack out. 

“I’d like you to meet Riley,” Will said, watching his companions leave out the second door, ”I’d like to see how she reacts to you.” 

“I’d be delighted,” said Martin. 

“And how she reacts to Malcolm.” Will shifted his predator gaze onto Malcolm. Malcolm shrunk into himself. “Riley’s going to love you.” 

“Really? Why?” 

“Because I already do,” Will smiled at Malcolm. The smile lit up Will’s face, transforming this scruffy, tortured angel into a real man. No subterfuge, no manipulation, no predator. Just a man welcoming his half-brother into his little family. Malcolm couldn’t help smiling back. 

Seeing his son stand a little taller, and opening up to Will, Martin knew he had lost Malcolm to this shiny, new promise of family for now. He would just have to remind his boy that he would still be here when they lost interest in Malcolm. But Martin couldn’t see Will’s smile. 

Dr. Lecter could. Will smiled at Malcolm the way he smiled at his dogs. Unconditional love. It had been a long time since Hannibal experienced unconditional love. It was almost what Hannibal was trying to engender in Will for himself. If Will could know Hannibal as well as Will knew himself, then Will would be unable to stop from loving Hannibal. Even with everything Hannibal had done to Will. Not that Dr. Lecter would ever use the term love. However, he was considering recipes for Dr. Malcolm Bright for when he came to dinner. Maybe he would cook something Will would enjoy. Dr. Bright looked skinny. A long, slow braise. Something that Will could reduce to “stew.” And with the additional ingredient of this Riley. Dr. Lecter wondered if with two such talented sons, if Martin Whitly could detect Hannibal’s proclivities, but as obsessed as Whitly appeared to be with his son, Hannibal doubted it. 

“Riley is a lot like me. She reads people, but not with empathy,” Will stepped toward Malcolm, “with pure observation. She’s brilliant with facial ticks and expressions. Body language. But where I am connected, she is disconnected. She can list every single movement you made during an hour long conversation. She just doesn’t always understand the why of the emotion behind the movements. That’s what I taught her: the connection. But this can mean that she comes off as creepy. Too hyper focused. We’ve found people don’t really like it when she stares at someone without blinking.” 

If was finally Malcolm’s chance to laugh delightedly. He found it such a relief that these new siblings showed some of the same unnerving habits that he had.

“I just look at the evidence, put together the psychology of the killer. I can empathize with them. I just don’t...,” Malcolm tried to put his process into words. 

“You don’t become them. You put them together like a puzzle.” 

“Yes,” Malcolm breathed in relief. His nervousness had faded, letting him become still and calm. 

“Then I guess you could say I read people by becoming them, Riley reads people like a predator reads prey, and you read people like books that you have come to predict the ending.” Will stood very close to Malcom. Malcolm noticed that Will had completely blocked Malcolm from Martin’s sight, but Will didn’t stop Malcolm from stepping to the side to see his father. Martin’s smile was gone, and he looked worried. When he saw Malcolm peering around Will, Martin’s smile returned, but Malcolm had already seen the slip in his expression. Martin always kept a pleasant demeanor around Malcolm. He wanted his son’s trust and to ensure he couldn’t dig deeper into Martin’s secrets. Martin’s rehabilitation must appear true, and not just a mask or manipulation. If Martin was worried about Will, then he hadn’t found any weaknesses in Will when Will was staring Martin down. Will might represent real safety from Martin. As much as Malcolm wanted Martin, he equally wished to be free of him. Hopefully Will could help him. He aspired to today’s daily affirmation: “I create a safe and secure space for myself wherever I am.” 

“Come,” Will gestured to the door, “little brother, coffee or whisky? Your choice.” 

Malcolm smiled and nodded, turning to the door. 

“Malcolm,” Martin tried to call, but it came out too quiet. 

“I will show you what it’s like to be a part of the Graham family.” Will crowded close to Malcolm’s shoulder and knocked on the door. “And Dr. Lecter, will you join us?” 

“Of course,” Dr. Lecter hoped his voice was calm. He had never heard Will speak so freely. It was exciting watching him control the room. It seemed his whispering into the chrysalis was unnecessary. Will had already transformed. But this sister had seen this transformation, possibly impacted it. She was an advisor to Will’s decisions. It was probably time for Will to learn to live without his siblings. However, it wouldn’t do for Hannibal to act too hastily. After all, that was how Dr. Whitly had been captured. Of course, he had used the same plan Hannibal had decided to use if he ever got caught: play insane. Thus it would be good to wait and see with regards to Will, Malcolm, and this Riley. 

“I don’t really drink alcohol or caffeine,” Malcolm said, his head tipped down, “ I don’t really sleep well. Night terrors.” 

“I don’t sleep either. I prefer to self-medicate,” Will said, ruefully, “The minds I walk through follow me home. But a good friend said he would be my paddle when I feel my head slipping under.” 

Dr. Lecter felt a warm glow at Will’s admission of their friendship especially so soon after his release. Will was playing with him again. 

“That’s a good friend.” Malcolm glanced at his father, then left, saying a quick, “Thank you,” to Sean. 

Will looked back, same as Malcolm, but smiled crookedly at Dr. Lecter. “I’m sure you know of an appropriately extravagant cafe we can go to, yes?” 

“I would be delighted to show you one of my favorites,” Dr. Lecter smiled. 

“It was good to meet you, Dad.” 

They left Martin’s cell, though Dr. Whitly had regained his voice. 

“Malcolm? Malcolm!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has kudos-ed and commented. You all are awesome. I never expected this story would get so much love. Thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go to lunch.

Doctor Lecter brought Will and Malcolm to a café that was moderately busy. The men wore Rolexes and the women diamond earring and tennis bracelets. Malcom in his dark grey suit, and Hannibal peacocking in a brown and umber plaid, with a paisley tie in blue and gold fit in perfectly.

Will looked positively homeless in a grey-green jacket over a brown shirt, boots sticking out from under a pair of dark slacks. At least they weren’t blue jeans. His untamed hair garnered a few double-takes. Where once the examination would have made Will duck his head, frown, and wear his glasses, now he smiled. A few women’s steely eyes became interested at seeing his smile. Some wondered what it would be like to sneak off the the bathroom with him, under the noses of their husbands. One husband asked his wife if she was okay, as she flushed pink. Several wondered if Will was married. The few who noticed he wore no ring wondered about the two well-dressed men who had walked in with the scruffy beauty through the rest of their meal. He looked older than one of the men, but did that mean both younger men belonged to the extravagant blonde? Or was the well-dressed younger man an escort for the blonde and the scruffy brunette?

All these thoughts perked up women and some of the men throughout the dining room. They would return to these thoughts during the day and into the night, sending frissons of excitement up their spines. 

Will saw all this in the diners’ eyes as he passed. He was still smiling when the host seated them at a table by the window. The walls were beautifully painted to look like cascades of flowers and matched the small vase of flowers on the table. Outside the window boxes were covered in snow. Inside the heaters silently kept the temperature comfortable. The men removed their outerwear and the host hung them on garment hooks on the nearby wall. Just after they sat, a waiter handed them a leather bound menu. Artisanal drinks, coffees, teas, and fruit juices, were listed on one side, the other listed a short menu of Crepes, small sandwiches, a house salad and pastries. 

Will noticed there were no prices and thought the gold leaf, donkey milk caramel, and French lavender infused sugared grapes in some of the listings, pretentious. Will, still smiling, watched Malcolm, he seemed unaware of the looks around them, and was rather used to such a menu. 

Given his suit and the clothing and hair styles of his mother and sister, Malcolm was well off. So, the menu and the environment wouldn’t be a surprise, but Will was sure Malcolm was aware of the looks. He couldn’t be that naive if his mind worked like Will’s. 

Doctor Lecter was happy, yet surprised to see Will’s smile. Playing with his birth father was one thing, but to see Will comfortable in a place of his choosing, was encouraging. He hoped Will would allow him to dress him in the future.The flannels were endearing, but Hannibal imagined Will in something fine, dark, and red. If Malcolm was going to become a permanent fixture in their lives, Hannibal needed to rethink his plans. With Malcolm just as capable as Will, theoretically, and no encephalitis, he might see behind Hannibal’s person suit rather quickly. Hannibal’s planned reveal of Abigail might need to be put off. Or, given how close Will was to unknown family, that family might pull Will away. As lovingly as Will spoke of Riley, and as sweetly as Will had welcomed Malcolm, they could create a space between Hannibal and Will. They might convince Will that Hannibal didn’t care for him, and was being manipulative. Perhaps bringing Abigail back to Will sooner would be better. But, that was a decision to make after meeting Riley. For now, lunch with Will and Malcolm was on the menu. 

Malcolm kept his demeanor casual and relaxed. He was hyperaware of the eyes following them. He tried to behave calmly, normal even. Acting strangely in public could negatively affect his new relationship with Will. He had been told, frequently by his mother and therapist, that his excited outbursts could be a turnoff for the neurotypical crowd. Even if these new family members turned out to be detrimental to malcolm’s mental health, and he had to turn them away, it wouldn’t do to start off badly. The sexual tension in the glances around them was not helping. Malcolm knew those eyes were pairing him with one or both of his companions, even though they were both male. The more intuitive gazes would be imagining Malcolm as the one held down and taken. Maybe even whipped. That’s what Malcolm was unwillingly imagining. Will was smaller than Dr. Lecter, and his rolled up sleeves showed off forearms that were strong and veiny and ended in hands that were large and calloused. Malcolm suddenly shivered as the image flashed through his mind, of those hands holding his legs up near his ears. His own hands gripping those shaggy curls, pulling Will’s lips closer and just holding on as Will thrust. Will’s face twisted into a snarl, his blue eyes fierce as they drank in Malcolm. 

“I am acquainted with the chef. If you would like a suggestion,” said Dr. Lecter.

Will smirked, “Why am I not surprised.” And kept his gaze on his menu.

Dr. Lecter sniffed. Then seeing he had Malcolm’s attention, he smiled placidly. “I knew Chef Wendy when she worked in Baltimore at a rather uninspired American Diner,” His tone suggested he felt rather contemptuous towards the diner. “They served mediocre burgers and insipidly sweet milkshakes, but the breakfast menu was skillful. She made it worth a second visit. Chef Wendy was responsible. I made a few suggestions, wrote a few letters to other Chefs here in New York. The diner closed quickly after Chef Wendy left. She was the only one worth saving.” Will snorted. Dr. Lecter’s genial smile dimmed. “Would you like advice on what to order, Will? I would be happy to order for you.” His expression was flat and he seemed disappointed in Will, or disappointed that there was something he couldn’t say, but he was too in control to react more. 

“No, I’m fine. Think I’ll have the ham and cheese with apple juice.” Will smiled innocently, but there were hints of smugness at the corners of his mouth and eyes. Malcolm looked down at his menu. Will’s selections were complex. Iberian ham with imported Emmental cheese on a house made baguette made using dough from a ‘mother’, and butter made from milk from special cows. The juice was freshly made from a mix of apple types, so it had the correct balance of sweet to sour. The glass was served with a stick of cinnamon and a raw sugar cane straw. The sandwich came with the sugared grapes strung on a twig of lavender. 

Dr. Lecter held Will’s laughing gaze before turning back to his menu resolutely. Their waiter appeared at Malcolm’s elbow. “Welcome, Sirs, I am Jeffrey. May I get you anything to drink?” He spoke clearly, but quietly. 

“I’ll have the apple juice and the ham and Swiss sandwich, please. Thank you,” Will jumped in happily before Dr. Lecter.

Dr. Lecter side-eyed Will. “I’ll have the crêpes aux champignons et gruyère with red bell pepper purée and a café au lait. Thank you, Jeffery.” Dr. Lecter said imperiously. The waiter nodded, his hands clasped at his back. Everyone turned to Malcolm. Lecter was composed. The waiter was attentive. Will was relaxed and uncaring, but his eyes twinkled.

Malcolm cleared his throat. “I’ll have the crêpes with lemon and sugar. Earl Grey tea. Please.” Malcolm figured a fork and knife would be better than a sandwich or pastry that he could nervously tear apart. 

“Excellent choices, Sirs. I’ll just be a moment with your drinks,” Jeffery said, taking their menus. 

With food taken care of, Dr. Lecter’s gaze settled on Malcolm. His eyes were golden, like a lion’s, in fact. Malcolm definitely felt like prey. The straight line of Dr. Lecter’s nose into the curve of his eyebrows and his sharp cheekbones all brought to mind the face of an apex predator. 

“So, Malcolm, discovering long lost family must be pleasant.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Come, Doctor Lecter, not on the first date.” Will turned to Malcolm. “Doctor Lecter’s a psychiatrist. My psychiatrist, actually.” 

“I believe we decided on friends having conversations.”

Will turned his head sharply back to Hannibal. “Yes, but that was before I was incarcerated and I sent someone to kill you.”

”Now, Will, if you were trying not to scare him away, you are doing an excellent job.” Dr. Lecter’s sarcasm made his voice rough. 

“Wait. You tried to have him killed?” Malcolm asked, looking from one man to the other. 

“Yes.” Will looked past Hannibal to the view out the window. 

“There was a misunderstanding. Will was not in his right mind.” 

Will frowned. “I was of a mind to kill you. And I tried to have you killed. That sounds like exactly the right mind to be in.” 

“Will,” Dr. Lecter cajoled. 

“But if you were wrongfully imprisoned... If you didn’t kill those people, then why want Dr. Lecter dead? Unless he...,” Malcolm said slowly. There was a much deeper relationship between Will and the doctor. Malcolm was confused. Dr. Lecter from his attention on Will, and his willingness to stay with Will even when Dr. Bloom, obviously his lover, wanted to leave suggested a great desire for Will, either his love, companionship, or even just his attention. Will’s attention was rarely directly on Dr. Lecter, but Will regularly made pointed comments at the doctor. Will was upset and hurt by the doctor, but never really moved out of Dr. Lecter’s orbit. Will engaged him, pulling him in while pushing him away. 

“He betrayed you,” Malcolm finished. Both men stared at Malcolm, Will with a hint of anger and Dr. Lecter with a resigned sadness.

“Will was confused,” Dr Lecter said softly. Will blinked, then relaxed his jaw. 

“I had encephalitis. Migraines and blackouts. Dr. Lecter knew.” Will paused. His eyes flicked around the room as he struggled with his thoughts. His eyes seemed to glazed over with tears before he took a deep breath. “He refrained from informing Jack until after I was arrested. They were able to argue that the illness made me unaware of what I was doing. That I was connecting with killers and repeating their kills, knowingly according to the prosecution.” 

“How did you go free?” Malcolm asked. 

“Evidence from my alleged victims along with kills made after I was arrested was found at the scene of a Chesapeake Ripper kills.” 

“So the Chesapeake Ripper is the Copycat Killer,” concluded Malcolm. 

“Yes,” said Dr. Lecter. “Will figured that out before he was arrested, but no one believed him.” 

“Which you helped along,” Malcolm said stonily. Will smiled at Malcolm’s indignation on his behalf. 

“Dr. Lecter wanted to see what would happen the longer he let my brain cook,” Will said to Malcolm while staring flinty-eyed at Lecter. “But he wouldn’t have let me die. After all, there is nothing Dr. Lecter hates more than an overdone piece of meat.”

The waiter swung around with a tray of drinks. He dropped them off with a quiet, “Here you are, Sirs. Your meals will be out in a moment,” before speeding off to serve a rather rambunctious group of men on their third after lunch cocktails. Dr. Lecter breathed in his café au lait. Malcolm doctored his tea with three sugars, marveling at the stoic man who had betrayed his brother relaxing so fully in the presence of food. Will was just bemused Dr. Lecter was finding something made by someone else so enjoyable. Will took a sip of his juice, catching Lecter’s attention. He looked expectantly at Will for his opinion, but Will just looked back blandly. 

“How can you be friends after that?” asked Malcolm, sitting back in his chair. 

Will took a moment to respond. Dr. Lecter waited for Will. He wanted to say something that would pull in Will and fade out Malcolm’s curiosity, but he was too curious himself why Will had begun to welcome Hannibal’s presence after his antagonism in Hannibal’s kitchen two nights ago. 

“I think we’ll find where we stand with each other eventually,” Will finally said. 

This gave Malcolm hope. Maybe one day Malcolm would be able to come to terms with the different sides of his father: the vicious killer, the loving parent, and the other one. He also noticed that, for the first time since meeting Dr. Lecter, the man was smiling genuinely. 

“I hope for this, too, Will.” Dr. Lecter’s voice caressed Will’s name. 

Malcolm shivered. There was so much sexuality in that one word Malcolm could suddenly understand Will’s almost forgiveness of Lecter’s betrayal. Lecter wanted Will to belong to him willingly.

When Jeffrey set their meals before them, the three men were still lost in their thoughts. They ate quietly except for comments on how good the food was. Eventually Will gave in and ordered a coffee. It was nearly as good as Hannibal’s which Will refrained from mentioning. The tension from before dissipated as they ate. The three men were so different, yet all were highly observant. They found being with each other very comfortable. Hannibal was always comfortable given how confident he was in his apex predator status, but being in the presence of two men who could know him wholly gave him a warm, tingly feeling. 

Malcolm had always been awkward with people in general, seeing too much and saying too much. He didn’t have much of a filter when he began making connections. With Will and Lecter, things may have been tense at times, but Malcolm didn’t sense that there was anything he shouldn’t say. He wasn’t going to upset either of the men with his comments. They didn’t become exasperated by him, like everyone else eventually did. If anything, they found him entertaining, or at least Dr. Lecter did. 

Will, with a finally clear mind, felt sharp and aware. Lecter’s machinations had simply awoken a harsher side to Will that had slept since leaving the New Orleans Police Department. He had been so angry when he came to Baltimore, so disappointed with his life. Then everything faded into a dull existence. His dogs and Riley had been the only brights parts of his life. The encephalitis had both broken his confidence in his mind and repaired it. Now with Hannibal, Will’s mind was like a well-oiled machine leaping into the challenge. With Malcolm, Will found a new stray; something to care for and love unconditionally. However being with Hannibal had awoken Will’s manipulative side. Messing with Malcolm and Martin was going to be fun. Especially with Riley visiting. 

“I’m glad we did this,” said Will. He stood and held out his hand to Malcolm. They shook hands. “Riley should be here by tomorrow, but I don’t know what she had planned.” 

“She plans a lot?” Malcolm grabbed their coats from the hooks. Dr. Lecter signed the check. 

“Everything, but she never tells anyone her plans. It causes some frustration for others.” Will and Malcolm exchanged numbers. “She’ll probably want to meet Martin more than anything, but she will want to meet you first.” Will smiled teasingly at Malcolm. “Welcome to the family.” 

“It was a pleasure.” Dr. Lecter shook Malcolm’s hand while handing him his card. 

Will and Hannibal took a cab back to their hotel. Malcolm decided the walk to his apartment would do him good. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malcolm dreams. Will talks about his dreams and plans for tomorrow.

Malcolm moved down that familiar hallway to the closet with the box, to the woman in the box. The box was empty. He turned away and was in Dr. Whitly’s cell, but it too was empty. The red walls began to drip blood. The drawings were of Malcolm’s body dissected. 

“See how beautiful you are,” Dr. Whitly said to his right. As Malcolm turned his head to look at his father, Martin dragged a scalpel down Malcolm’s torso. Blood poured from the wound, but it remained clean. The blood didn’t stick, just slipped off like water off a windowpane. Martin reached into Malcolm’s abdomen, caressing his insides. 

“You are mine,” Martin whispered in his ear. “I love you. You belong to me. All this belongs to me.” Martin reached up into his chest, and grabbed his heart. Pressure built within Malcolm. He shuddered. 

Malcolm jerked away. Pulling his knees in close and hiding his head in his arms, Malcolm continued to shake. 

“You belong to whomever you want,” Will stated from the foot of his bed. Malcolm peeked up from his huddle. Will was dressed in a beautiful suit, curls slicked back. His eyes glowed. By the stairs lay the woman in the box. She moaned and twisted. The Junkyard Killer stood above her with a knife. Watkins grinned. A clawed hand burst through his chest. His body fell. There stood, with antlers reaching the ceiling, a great black creature. Its bald head gleamed in the moonlight. Malcolm could feel its eyes on him even hidden in shadow. It sunk into a crouch, and opened its maw. With many black, needle-like teeth, it began to tear at the two bodies. 

Malcolm wanted to scream. Will made a fond humming sound. Glancing at him, Malcolm jerked back, slamming into the headboard and wall. Will’s eyes had turned black like the creature. Malcolm opened his mouth to scream. Warm arms wrapped around Malcolm. He was leaning back against someone. He couldn’t turn to see their face. At first he thought it was his father, but the chest was smaller. There were soft breasts cushioning his shoulders and neck. He thought it was maybe his mother or sister, even Detective Dani, but no. Will gazed lovingly at the woman holding Malcolm. 

“Riley,” Malcolm whispered. The arms tightened their hold. He felt warm and safe in the bosom of his family, literally. He smiled at his joke. Will smiled too as if he had heard Malcolm’s thought. Will pulled the blanket back up onto Malcolm. Then he laid down with his head on Malcolm’s thigh. Malcolm relaxed into the hold, and drifted to sleep to the crunches and slurps of the creature. 

The sun drifting through the windows slowly woke Malcolm. He tried to turn over, pulling on the cuffs on his wrists. He spit out the mouthguard to yawn. Last night he had slept better than he had since he had been fired by the FBI. 

*****

Will woke up feeling equally refreshed. His sister would be arriving that afternoon. She left a message asking Will to make a reservation for afternoon tea, hopefully with the Whitleys if they agreed.

Will needed to see Riley. They usually went months without seeing each other. Only weekly or daily calls. But Riley had only called once while Will was in the BSHCI. She hadn’t wanted a recording of her voice available to the FBI. So the call was just dead air. Will understood, but he desperately needed to see her. Now she would be here, in the same town, for however long Will wanted her. She had promised. 

Will was going to order coffee from room service, but Jack, Hannibal, and Alana dragged him down to the hotel restaurant buffet. He was resolute in getting just coffee. No reason to give them more time to interrogate him. Alana was hesitant to start. Hannibal’s curiosity was satisfied by yesterday’s lunch. That just left Jack. 

“So, a sister,” said Jack in his disappointed voice. “She’s not in your file.” 

“She is. As a tertiary emergency contact,” Will said, staring into his cup. “She wouldn’t show up as my sister because she technically isn’t my sister. Dad never fully adopted her. And we don’t share blood. For the FBI, she only exists as a phone number.” 

“But how come you never mentioned her, Will?” Alana was visibly disgruntled over Will’s secrets. This was a man she thought she might have had a relationship with once. Someone who, before the arrest, before she believed him a killer, before she believed him sick and broken, before he tried to kill her new boyfriend, before he was proven innocent and released, something she had believed would never happen, she had sexual feelings for and could have fallen in love with. She had asked about his family before. He had never spoken of a sister, just a distant father. Apparently very distant. Why hadn’t he trusted her? Maybe she already had her answer. Will could read people. Had he seen something in Alana even when he was sick that had kept him from fully opening up to her? But he hadn’t told Hannibal about his sister either. Or Jack. 

“You never mentioned her to any of us.” Alana looked about to continue with something scathing about trust, friendship, and secrets. 

“Will is allowed his secrets. After all we have done to prove that Will can trust us to trust him, he is entitled to have as much privacy as he needs,” said Hannibal. He daintily fit a piece of pepper, sausage, and scrambled egg onto his fork. Will wondered if this protein scramble tasted the same as the one Hannibal had made for him, without its “alternative” ingredient. He bet it didn’t. 

“The last time Will wanted our trust he was saying you were the Chesapeake Ripper,” said Jack. 

“And then he tried to kill you,” said Alana. 

“Only after his innocence was denied,” Hannibal said to Alana. He turned to Will and put down his silverware. “Will, I hope others have gotten the chance, though I doubt they have taken it. I would like to be the first to say how sorry I am for believing even for a moment that you were capable of such monstrous crimes. You were my friend. I thought I knew you. Instead, I did not seem to know myself. You trusted me, and I broke that trust. I apologize. I hope you can forgive me.”

Will stared at Hannibal’s “genuine remorse” for a long time. Alana started to sputter about not needing to apologize before falling silence, showing some remorse of her own. Jack seemed deep in thought. 

Will hadn’t gotten a private moment to confer with Jack over whether Jack believed Hannibal or believed Will. This new case had interrupted any new plans they might have made. Will wasn’t even sure whether he himself was going to try to capture Hannibal or not. 

Hannibal was not apologizing. Not for what he was saying he was apologizing nor for what Will sometimes wanted him to apologize. Hannibal didn’t even have to mean it. Just hearing the words would have been enough for Will. Hannibal having to form his mouth around those words, having to regret, even for a moment, what he had done to Will, would have been so satisfying. “Sorry for not helping with the encephalitis.” “Sorry for making you think you were crazy.” “Sorry for the ear.” “Sorry for killing Abigail.” Though Riley had said she wanted to talk to him about that last one. The other stuff, the screwing with Will and his abilities, the killings, and the framing, Will could understand. Of course he could understand. Will was probably the only one in the world who could understand, barring his sibling. Hannibal had been curious about Will, so he messed with him. Then Will saw behind Hannibal’s mask. Will told him he wouldn’t like him when he was psychoanalyzed. Then Hannibal had to kill those would could expose him, and found the perfect scape-goat in Will. He probably even thought of killing Will more than once. In another life, Will probably would have done the exact same thing if he had been in Hannibal’s position. 

But Will wasn’t Hannibal, and he wasn’t in Hannibal’s place now. Now Hannibal had made his first real move since Will was released. Their holding pattern had come to an end. It was time to play the game anew. 

“Of course I forgive you, Hannibal.” Will put down his cup. “You had every reason to think I’d gone insane. All the evidence was there, until it wasn’t. You were only thinking how any logical person would think with what was in front of you. You have nothing to apologize for. You are my friend.” Will looked away. “ I can only hope you can forgive me. I accused you. Tried to hurt you.” 

“Then we are apologizing for the same thing,” Hannibal said with a small smile. “We should stop before we find ourselves apologizing again. We’ll soon tire of it.” 

“We should use our apologies sparingly.” 

“Be more professional?” 

“God forbid we remain friends.” 

Hannibal’s smile grew smug while Will began to grin. 

“Will.” Uncle Jack was disappointed again. Will turned to roll his eyes out of sight behind his coffee cup. Hannibal smirked, but calmed his expression. He went back to the precise eating of his breakfast. 

“You didn’t tell us about the sister, and you didn’t tell us about your father. He’s a serial killer in a psychiatric hospital. And I know that isn’t in your file. You enjoyed dropping that on us. I can’t trust you not to keep things from us. You are off this case. We will discuss your continued work with the BAU back in Baltimore,” Jack said definitively. His was the last word. Will would return home, staying out of Jack’s way until Jack was ready to determine how he and Will would work on the Hannibal problem. If Jack would even trust Will with that any more. 

“That sounds...fine. I’m sorry you feel that way, Jack. I guess we’ll sort it all out later. This will give me the time for Riley and the DNA test.” 

Jack and Alana frowned at Will’s carefree answer. 

“You were right, Jack. Dr. Whitley isn’t in my file. Mom got away with putting William Graham Sr. on the birth certificate. Probably should get solid proof to change it, huh?” 

“You won’t be returning to Baltimore.” 

“I have family to meet, Jack. To leave now would be rude. And Riley’s expecting me here. She’ll be disappointed if she doesn’t get to meet Daddy and the new siblings.” Will turned to Hannibal with a laugh. “Sounds like a bad band name.” 

Jack stood sharply and left. His great frown caused hotel employees and guests to hurry out of his way; grit teeth and glaring eyes. Alana followed slower. She looked at Hannibal, nodding at him to come with her. Hannibal glanced at Will. 

“I still have a few questions for dear Will.” He held Alana’s hand tenderly. “But I will see you for dinner tonight. I have reservations for the Gramercy Tavern.”

”You don’t have to bribe me with my favorite New York restaurant, but thank you for remembering.” 

“Of course,” Hannibal said quietly. 

“I’m never going to be happy with you being around the man who tried to have you killed. However it is your decision, and I respect that. Just know that I worry.” 

“I respect that you are worried, Alana, but I am perfectly safe with Will. Will was angry with me, with himself, and needed to express that anger. It was not the healthiest way, but it is over now. We can move forward.” 

Will rolled his eyes at the therapist talk. 

“Besides, I’m hardly going to try to kill him during breakfast.” Will smiled placidly at Alana and Hannibal’s discontented expressions. He knew Alana thought he was a genuine threat and hated his new cavalier attitude. Hannibal was just upset he was being rude to Alana. Hannibal’s discontentment came and went in a moment. Alana’s stayed. She leaned down to kiss Hannibal, keeping her eyes on Will until the last moment. She would never have done that normally, but Will’s new attitude seemed to be catching. She strode off with her head high, obviously determined to put Will out of her mind. 

Will’s smile grew as he turned back to Hannibal. 

“You have questions for me?” 

“You said it was your sister who suggested that you reveal yourself to your birth father. You said she just wanted to see what would happen.”

Will cut in, “You and she have that in common.” 

Hannibal was perturbed by this, squinting slightly at Will. Will was delighted, almost bouncing as he leaned forward toward Hannibal. 

“Don’t try to convince me that isn’t what the encephalitis was all about. You wanted to see how far you could push my mind. In fact...” Will frowned. “When exactly was it that you first noticed I was sick?” He stared hard at Hannibal. “It would have to be before I started losing time because that didn’t surprise you.” Will ran through his memories of their interactions, at least the ones he still had, while running his hands through his fluffy mess of hair. Hannibal signaled to a passing waiter to refresh their coffee. Will’s eyes went wide. 

“Ah!” He slammed his fist on the table, causing the crockery and waiter to jump. He pointed forcefully at Hannibal. 

“Will,” Hannibal admonished. Will just shook his finger harder at him. 

“You smelled me!”

The waiter looked distinctly uncomfortable, and hurried away. Will took a sip of his new coffee, and, grimacing, began to mix in sugar and cream until the coffee was almost the same color as the cup. Eyebrows pinched, Hannibal looked askance at Will. In all the time Hannibal had known Will, the man had always taken his coffee black, even the horrid FBI coffee. That and his excited outbursts were out of character for Will. 

“You smelled me in your office 17 weeks ago. You knew I was sick then.” Will waited for Hannibal to obliquely deny his actions around Will while also implying Will was mistaking things. Hannibal delicately ate his last bite, placed his knife and fork across his plate, and, like a Victorian ingenue, dabbed lightly at the corners of his mouth. He kept his gaze down, away from Will, until after his plate was taken away. Then, he flicked his eyes up, a tease. He took a breath, about to respond. 

“Don’t lie,” commanded Will. “Not now. You can refrain from answering. I understand there are things you can’t say, but don’t lie to me.” 

“Will you return the courtesy?” 

“I have nothing I need to omit. Nothing I need to hide from you,” Will said, smugly. “And I have no reason to lie.”

Hannibal watched Will watching him. Without giving everything away, and becoming an open book to Will,—after all, Hannibal never wanted to be considered boring to Will—Hannibal needed to be honest with Will now, or risk losing Will’s friendship. 

“I have an excellent sense of smell. It has even been useful in the culinary arts, and helpful in my medical pursuits.” 

“So what does encephalitis smell like? Underneath that horrid aftershave,” Will conceded. 

“Sweet with fever. Like [aguonu sausainiukai](https://www.thespruceeats.com/lithuanian-poppy-seed-cookies-recipe-1136757). It is a poppy seed lemon cookie.”

Will huffed a laugh. “Welll, I hope you enjoyed it. Letting my brain cook, so I smelled like cookie. Because, though I may have accepted what you did, my sister won’t. She’ll understand it, but you hurt me. That she won’t forgive. At least not until she thinks you’ve suffered enough.”

Hannibal was not upset by what Will was threatening second hand. He was curious. 

“You try to take my life. Now your sister gets a chance? Is your sister going to kill me, Will?” 

“Only if I ask her.” 

Both men quietly sipped their coffee. The restaurant was still bustling around them. Jack had insisted on an early breakfast, probably hoping to get rid of Will quicker. Without having the “Ripper” talk, Jack was making things more difficult for Will. His antagonism after yesterday was understandable. Will accepted it. But Jack’s continued negativity toward Will was liable to become a problem. It might have helped sell Will’s growing closeness to Hannibal, if Will and Jack were actually working together to catch the Ripper. 

Instead, Jack was genuinely beginning the split between himself and Will unless Will started showing more submission to Jack’s authority. And that was something Will was not going to do, not anymore. Not after Jack promised not to leave Will in the BSHCI, then became the one to ensure Will was stuck there. Even if Will wanted to repair things with Jack, Riley wouldn’t let him. She had never liked Jack from how she reacted to Will’s descriptions. She hissed and spit like a cat in water when Will told her about Jack guilting him into continuing to work. She hated how Jack seemed to place all the responsibility for catching killers on Will when Jack had many other agents, including himself, that he could rely on. Will couldn’t wait for Jack to meet Riley. He couldn’t wait for Hannibal to meet Riley.

”I had a dream last night,” said Will. Hannibal was surprised. He had been unsure how far the returning closeness between them had grown. For Will to offer up one of his private visions made Hannibal feel they had returned to his office, well before Will’s incarceration when they had first started becoming friends. 

“Not a nightmare?” Hannibal had to be sure Will was not continuing to find Hannibal’s presence a barrier to unveiling Will’s darkest thoughts. 

“No, not a nightmare. Though I imagine a therapist might describe it as one. I dreamt of my sister.” Will sipped his vaguely warm coffee. 

“I often dream of my sister,” Hannibal volunteered. This new honesty rule was surprisingly freeing. With Will, Hannibal could open up. He had to open up. Will was being pulled away by forces Hannibal could not control, and he would not let that continue. 

“You have a sister?” 

“Yes, I miss her dearly.” 

Will didn’t respond. He could feel Hannibal’s loss. 

“You are lucky to be so close to your sister. She is a source of comfort?” 

“Always. When we were young, she would have difficulty reading people who were calm and normal. They didn’t interest her. She could spot a threat a mile away. She knew before I did that the man down the street was abusing his son. She was four. But she still has trouble caring.” 

“She does not care about people?” 

“At least their opinions. Except mine. Don’t misunderstand. She doesn’t qualify as a psychopath or a misanthrope. She’s just...” Will sought the words in his coffee cup. “Brash. With most people, she just mimics the right attitude. Gives them what they expect to see until she doesn’t have to deal with them anymore. With the people she’s closer to, she shows her real self. Brash, harsh, manipulative, and unflinching. She’s free. In a way many people feel they can’t be.” Will paused, looking curiously at Hannibal. 

“What it is, Will?” 

“She can also be very rude. I hope that won’t be a problem.” Will considered Hannibal, awaiting his answer while also knowing Hannibal would have to put up with his sister to be with him. 

“I am sure she’s delightful.” 

Will snorted. Hannibal’s eyebrows rose. 

“You’ll either be best friends or try to kill each other. Guess we’ll have to wait and see.” 

Hannibal gazed at Will, taking him in; his fluffy mess of curls, his relaxed form, his bland, but well made clothes, his laughing eyes. His sister was certainly a threat. Hannibal put up with Will’s rudeness because he found it charming, another facet of Will, of the man Hannibal was fast considering his. This woman could threaten all Hannibal held dear. But killing her would lose him Will, leading to his own downfall. 

“What was your dream, Will?” 

“I was lying on your dining table. You were cutting me open, playing with my insides.” Will stopped to laugh, sharing the smile with Hannibal. “Yeah, subtle, I know. but then we switched places. I was cutting you open, and you were guiding my hand. You were teaching me the right pressure, and how to curve around the muscles and bones. My stomach was still hanging open. I could see Riley and Malcolm through the door, on the floor of the kitchen. They were playing with our organs. Riley was painting a picture on the floor with the blood. Malcolm was squishing the viscera between his fingers. A great stag lay behind them, protecting them. It looked up as Martin came in from your backyard. He was covered in blood that became a bright red sweater. Malcolm seemed worried at his father’s presence. He kept looking to me. Riley was happy to see Martin. She pulled him over to her drawing.” Will was not distraught by his dream. Hannibal, though, wanted to know if Will had enjoyed their interactions in his dream. 

“How did you respond, Will?” 

“We both went over to see Riley’s drawing. It looked like the floor plan of Claremont hospital. Martin smiled down at her. He kissed her head. She looked at me as she turned her face up to Martin. He obliged her with a kiss on the lips. She bit his lips off. Malcolm pouted until she shared her mouthful with him in another kiss. You were looking on as was Martin. Seems you’re teaching everyone in my mind bad habits. I woke up when you reached for me.” 

Hannibal did not say anything, simply signed the newly brought bill with his room number and a flourish. He tipped as did Will, then they both rose. At the elevators, they stopped. 

“I will be spending the day with Alana,” said Hannibal. 

“Yes, a good way to calm her fears and anger before Riley gets here, and this case gets more complicated,” said Will blandly. 

“You believe it will become more complex?” 

“There will be more bodies, but more than that, Martin Whitley is a big part of the case. This killer admires him, want to be taught by him. They may try to break him out to gain his favor.” 

“Would your sister attempt to engineer his freedom?” If Riley would want to protect Will from Hannibal, would she seek to protect other family members? 

“No. No matter what my dreams may be implying. If Riley likes Martin, she’ll want him to be part of the family. Same with Malcolm. But breaking Martin out would cause her and me too much trouble. She won’t risk breaking him out herself.” Hannibal and Will shared a knowing look. 

“Is your sister arriving today?” 

Will checked his phone. 

“She was, but her flight was delayed.” Will sent off a quick text, telling Malcolm that their tea was postponed. “Guess I’ll spend the day...” 

“You are welcome to join Alana and I for lunch or dinner,” Hannibal said, clearing his expression innocently. Will rolled his eyes at Hannibal. 

“I wasn’t aware when we met just how fond you were of stirring up trouble.” 

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re implying.” Hannibal smiled sweetly at Will. 

“Don’t worry. I’m wise to you now.” Will smiled sweetly back. “Now that I finally find you interesting.” 

The two men separated; Hannibal to his room and Will outside to find entertainment in the big city. Riley would probably want a mini Empire State Building or Statue of Liberty to decorate the house. Especially as his flies hadn’t been released from evidence. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will continues to change, and Riley determines this to be a good thing. Hannibal gets to meet Riley, and determines her to be a threat to his relationship to Will. But will this lead to Hannibal getting rid of Riley? Stay tuned to this week’s installment of Family Renuion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m going off on the idea that Will’s lawyer was able to sue or work in a settlement for Will after his release. I can’t find evidence for this in the canon or any wikis, but given his better clothes and his nonchalance, it seems likely. The lawyer also seemed like he would be capable of swinging that, arguing that the case was badly handled from the beginning. Let me know if this sounds good and plausible, or way off base.

Malcolm, feeling rested and content, went to visit Gil. Gil anticipated having to help with the FBI’s case, but only if a body dropped in his jurisdiction. For now, everyone carried on with current cases, most of which had been solved, and needed only the paperwork finished. Malcolm lent a hand where he could. He then returned home for dinner and a dreamless sleep. 

Alana and Hannibal shared a visit to a museum and dinner. Both tried to keep the conversation off of Will, but soon found that difficult. Without Hannibal having made the meal, there was no grand description of the food. Also, Will’s revelations proved too shocking. The psychiatrists were bursting with the desire to discuss the implications of having such a prolific and notorious serial killer as a father without actually growing up with any interactions with the man, only knowledge of him from newspapers. Alana believed Will’s work with the BAU had to be influenced by Martin’s proclivities. Hannibal was less inclined to this theory. Will had delighted in shocking his colleagues, and in playing with Whitley, both the father and son. That was not the attitude of someone driven by guilt, or someone disgusted by Martin Whitley. Will had not desired to catch killers because of his birth father, at least not in some desire to rid the world of characters like Whitley out of misplaced guilt. Otherwise, Will would not be able to stop himself from going after Hannibal now instead of wanting his company, Hannibal thought privately. It was more likely that the darkness within Will that Hannibal knew to be there, felt derision and contempt for the “lesser” killers, knowing that Martin, Hannibal, or Will himself could easily produce more beautiful art. So Will got rid of them legally. This was one of the darker theories Hannibal had contemplated, a piece of the puzzle that was Will, but probably not the whole. But Hannibal could not exactly say any of this to Alana. He instead politely suggested that Will was more than a series of guilt driven impulses, no matter how Jack might have manipulated him in the past. Alana agreed, saying that Will could be feeling the contradiction of guilt over his father’s homicides while acting out his own inherited homicidal intent all while looking pointedly at Hannibal’s wrists.. After that, they decided having a quiet meal would be more appropriate. 

Jack spent his day with the NYPD and his agents going over the forensic evidence of the case. He scheduled another visit to Dr. Whitley for a later day without Will. He was sure Whitley had more to add about the case and also about Will. 

Will spent the day window shopping until he found clothes of which Riley would approve. He found a hair salon where a stylist cooed over his curls. The man wanted to fluff the curls, and make them even more fly away. It would have given Will a halo. With the shave he was planning, Will would have looked 10 years younger. He convinced the stylist into something a little more conservative. They agreed on a partially slicked back look, cutting back his curls just a bit, and running product through to pull it all together, so it wasn’t so fuzzy. The new look garnered many stares. The stylist even left his number on Will’s receipt. Will actually smiled flirtatiously as he tipped the man. 

Will knew he was attractive. How could he not? He was described most commonly as handsome or angelic. But that was always before people got to know him. Then it became handsome, but weird. It was easier to ignore people. The attraction never went anywhere, so why bother. Riley always tried to get him to use his empathy, but that usually meant changing himself, if only in outward personality, into what others wanted. And that was exhausting, especially for what usually amounted to a one night stand. 

But there was one reason why Will could thank Hannibal for his false imprisonment. Being somewhat lost in Hannibal’s psyche, and taking on some of his traits, lead Will to be more confident. In his violence and in his appearance, Hannibal was so precise in how he wanted to look. Not just for others, for his person-suit, but for himself. His arrogance and pride gleamed from nearly every thread of his suits, every strand of coiffed hair. From his manicured nails to his moisturized skin, Hannibal took care of himself to the point of indulgence. If other killers had done the same, they wouldn’t have left so much evidence behind. Will couldn’t help absorbing that confidence into himself. 

So, he smiled, flirted, was a touch aggressive, but that was overlooked by the salespeople because he was just so damn charming and polite. He did not become Hannibal. Will only embraced what Riley had been telling him for years, and Hannibal had shown him how to accomplish. 

With the new clothes, shave, and haircut, all paid for with the generous settlement from the FBI, Will knew Riley, and probably Hannibal, would be happy. He planned to surprise them with the new look tomorrow. Riley always complained that if he wasn’t going to change how he acted, he could at least use his savings to dress better. Will had to admit, if only to himself, that he did have the money to dress at least like Malcolm, if not Hannibal Lecter, especially with the settlement. Riley had been so annoyed after he bought the house because, though he was buying land, he didn’t have much to live on after. The settlement from the NOPD hadn’t been nearly as generous. A stabbing in the line of duty wasn’t the same as false imprisonment. Will didn’t know how, but Riley had begun supplementing his income. And hadn’t stopped even after his new job teaching. She was always pushing him to use the money one something other than the dogs.

Riley loved the dogs. Zoe was her baby, Buster her partner in crime, and Will couldn’t wait to introduce her to Winston. However, Riley liked to remind him, “You treat these dogs like princesses. Why aren’t you living like a king? Don’t you think those pooches would want you to live as well as they do?” But Will needed a reason to do something, whereas Riley never needed a reason to do anything. So, Will looked like a “lumberjack bum who buys for the nuclear winter,” and Riley changed her appearance so often Will “was surprised she didn’t have friction burns from the fabric.” So, Will went to sleep excited for tomorrow. 

****

The next day Will joined Hannibal for breakfast. Hannibal paused upon seeing Will. Many people, male and female, paused to stare as Will walked to Hannibal’s table. He was dressed in a black suit fitted tight to his form with a black shirt and tie. With his newly slicked curls, the cleaned up and precise scruff, the facial and manicure he splurged on yesterday, Will looked like a dangerous temptation that could see into a person’s mind, drawing out their desires, and seducing them into giving in; like Lucifer himself. His hips swayed a bit, his steps sharp, his expression fierce, haughty, and smug. Hannibal and Riley wanted him to embrace his entire self. Well, Will hoped to emulate the most predatory and confident parts of them without his own worries and fears overcoming him. From the attention he was getting, Will would say he was successful. As he sat before Hannibal, Hannibal’s only thought was, “This man is mine.” 

Will ordered a coffee from the quickly appearing waiter. 

“Good morning, Will,” Hannibal said while cataloguing all the improvements in Will’s dress. 

“You’re staring, Hannibal,” Will teased. 

“Forgive me, Will. I could no more turn my eyes from you than I could from a work of art.” They gazed at each other until Will’s coffee came. Will drank it black with a moan of happiness. 

“I was planning to pick my sister up from the airport, if you’d like to come. She’ll be here soon.” 

“Where is she traveling from?” 

“Italy. She had work there.” 

“You’ve never said what she does.” 

Will considered his answer, then smirked. “If I told you, then I’d have to kill you.” 

Hannibal hummed in amusement. 

“No, her job is, ah...dangerous.” Will contemplated Hannibal, this time seriously. “I’m going to wait for you to figure it out yourself. See if you mistake a window for a mirror. It’ll be fun.”

Hannibal was unhappy with this game. 

“Will...” 

“I’ll find it fun,” Will said, amused again. “And you want to impress me, don’t you.” 

Hannibal’s lips thinned. 

They became distracted as they heard Jack’s voice. Jack and Alana had come for breakfast before working on the case. Without a word, Will and Hannibal rose, paid, and made their way out of the breakfast room using the opposite door from the working pair. 

They took a taxi to the airport and waited in the concourse. They stood together in the middle of the room, watching the crowds of people part around them. Will twitched slightly with the desire to move out of peoples’ way, but held himself steady, matching Hannibal’s solid presence. For all his bright colors and tan coat, Hannibal was a dark shadow that the fliers around them swerved like birds to avoid. Even Jack on a good day could not match Hannibal’s foreboding figure. Yet no one realized that they were reacting as prey does to a predator. They all simply flowed around. 

Hannibal was used to this. He found it humorous. Especially as Will seemed ignorant of his own space that people were avoiding. Will was coming into his own, but by Hannibal’s influence or another’s? Hannibal was distraught that Will might only be playing at his renewed friendship with Hannibal. Was Riley influencing Will, or Malcolm, or Dr. Whitley? Hannibal decided to have a dinner party as soon as he could with all the important players in attendance. He would have to be careful in inviting Will’s new extended family. 

Turning back to Will, Hannibal saw him perk up. He had seen his sister in the crowd. Hannibal used all his instincts to scan for a girl out of the ordinary. Any sibling of Will’s would have to be special. 

“She’s at the Starbucks. Probably getting something ridiculous, like a Black and White Mocha Frappuccino, breve, extra whip. She says she deserves to treat herself after a job. Because champagne and caviar are such a burden.” 

That is when Hannibal spotted a female Will. For all Will insisted there was no blood between them, Riley looked just like Will. Same curly brown hair just longer, same athletic build, same angelic face. Only now female. Even the same plaid shirt over jeans and boots. The only difference was Riley was smiling delightedly at the barista as she was handed a fluffy monstrosity of whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and sprinkles. Will had never expressed such delight to Hannibal’s knowledge, even with his dogs. Greeting his animals always carried a sadness of how removed Will was from everyone. 

Then Riley turned away from the barista, and Hannibal saw how she could have been raised alongside Will. Her big smile faded rapidly. Her eyes, previously squinted in joy, cleared, and began to scan the crowd. She watched the world like a hunter. It was had to tell just when she saw Will. Her eyes passed over him the same as they did everyone else. It was when a pair of airport security officers neared her that her expression softened, a bounce entered her step, and she sipped her drink playfully from the straw. Hannibal noticed that Will had not moved, his focus entirely on his sister. When she got close, her eyes snapped to Will’s. Both relaxed. Hannibal had not been aware of how tense they both had been until their shoulders lowered and their postures adjusted. A cheeky smile blossomed on Riley’s face. 

“Hi!” Riley’s voice was upbeat and light. She had a mid-tone voice, but she didn’t put any force or power into it. 

“Hi,” said Will in the same tone only deeper. Riley offered her drink to Will. He took a sip without taking his eyes off Riley. They stared at each other for a good minute. Then, as one, they turned to Hannibal. 

“Dr. Hannibal Lecter, Riley Graham. Riley, Dr. Hannibal Lecter,” Will introduced. 

“The pleasure is mine,” Hannibal said, stretching out his hand. Best to charm her now, and leave his options open. Riley took back her drink, gazing at Hannibal. Her eyes flicked from his face to his hair to his tie to his groin to his shoes, skipping back up to his eyes to his mouth. Her gaze was always moving. This was not Will’s aversion to eye contact. This was knowing that the eyes were not the only windows to the soul. Riley was reading him the way a great cat would read a herd for the old and infirm. It would be helpful if Riley did not see Hannibal as another predator, to be taken as a threat, but being perceived as prey was supremely distasteful to Hannibal. 

Will jabbed Riley in the ribs with his elbow. “Be nice.” 

Riley huffed. 

“No meatloaf,” Will threatened. 

“I’d much rather gorge at Lecter’s table,” Riley said, still looking at Hannibal. Will raised an eyebrow. 

“No chocolate cake.” 

Riley turned sharply to Will, but, seeing his seriousness, rolled her eyes, and stuck her hand out to shake. Hannibal gently took her hand, then let it go after a moment. 

“It’s a delight to finally meet the man courting my brother. Tell me, when are you going to put us out of our misery, and take Will to bed?” 

Will’s eyes rolled up to the ceiling before his forehead met his palm with a slap. 

“Will it be before or after you convince him to provide the protein for dinner?” Riley tilted her head, eyes wide, and took an innocent sip of sugar and cream with coffee flavoring. 

Hannibal was shocked into silence. He did not blink rapidly or begin to sweat. He just did not know how to respond to a stranger’s blunt reveal of his sexual desire for Will, his cannibalistic tendencies, and his desire for Will to join him in his murderous hobby. 

Riley’s eyes steadied on Hannibal’s. Her expression lost its lightness. Her form settled into a pointed stillness. She smiled darkly at Hannibal. 

“I bet you already have a pig picked out.” Her words were slow, like Hannibal’s and Will’s during therapy. The crowd never stopped moving passed their little group. 

“Something...challenging for Will. Something to prove that Will really has changed. Become more.” Riley smirked, leaning forward. “Will hasn’t changed. He hasn’t embraced some darkness inside him to become something new. Will’s who he has always been.” She leered at Will. “He’s just better dressed. Trust me. He’s never seen the point in expensive clothes. I am very happy you’ve convinced my brother to embrace his sexiness.” 

“Riley,” groused Will. 

“Problem?” 

“You can’t call your brother sexy. People will think we’re—,” 

“Fucking?” 

Will glared at Riley. She kept smiling. 

“Yeah, fucking,” Will conceded. 

Hannibal could not help his curiosity. “Are you engaged in a sexual relationship?” The siblings turned to Hannibal; Will in horror, and Riley in amusement. 

“No,” Will said with the definitiveness that only comes with an irritating amount of repetition. 

“Ha! He wishes.” 

Will jabbed Riley again. 

“Stop making people think we have sex.” 

“You share no blood, Will. It is only the societal taboo that you are allowing to hold you back from giving into desire,” Hannibal explained softly. 

Will groaned. 

“No, there’s nothing sexual between us. Sensuality, sure. We hug, we kiss, we touch. But there isn’t much of a sexual drive between us,” Riley said, looking down at her drink. Will brightened at Riley’s words, and shrugged. 

“There’s a bit of voyeurism between us. Remember when you visited my dorm.” He turned to Hannibal, smirking. “She watched me have my way with a number of pretty girls and boys.” His smile turned tender. “I don’t have any desire to fuck my sister, but holding her afterward, and sleeping beside her. That’s my peace.” 

Hannibal did not respond, considering Will, then Riley. She caught his eye. 

“Same.” She shrugged. “Well, now we’ve determined whether you’ve had the pleasure of being inside me.” Two older women passing by gasped. “Lunch? Feed me, brother.” With that, Riley tossed her hair and bounced off. 

Will smiled. He laced his arm around Hannibal’s to Hannibal’s immense pleasure.

“You’ll get used to her.” Will gently pulled Hannibal along. “It’s Malcolm I’m worried about. Hope she doesn’t scare him away. I do want to see her fuck with Martin, though.” 

Hannibal stayed quiet, but followed Will easily. Riley’s demeanor had quickly become open and cheerful once again. If he had not seen her sharpness, Hannibal would have considered her childish, and easily gotten rid of her. He was not fooled, however, into believing that the switches in behavior that he had seen were accidents. Riley was as conscious of what she presented to others as Hannibal was. And she knew about Hannibal from Will. She may consider him a threat. Hannibal was sure if anything happened to Will, Riley would come after him. He would have to be tentative and gentle, slipping carefully under her notice, making himself comfortable to her. They may not have a sexual relationship, but what the siblings had described was an intimacy that Hannibal yearned for between Will and himself. Will would never accept Hannibal if Riley disappeared. Hannibal just had to insure that Will would have problems with Riley if Hannibal suddenly disappeared. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for all the comments and kudos! This is a WIP, and it will not be abandoned.


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